


Brewer-Rose Honeymoon (was (like a) slap)

by TriLyn



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriLyn/pseuds/TriLyn
Summary: Changed name when this stopped being a one shotPatrick has just stumbled upon a graphic bit of David's past and isn't sure how to deal with it. Has he just ruined their marriage that isn't even a month old?May be triggering by referenced past possible non-con/dub-con. Also has some graphic revenge fantasies.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	1. Slap

Patrick couldn’t stop staring at the picture even though he couldn’t see it through his tears. He should close the laptop or at least close the browser but both hands were in use holding his sobs in. He should not have listened to Alexis when she told him what to search for and he should have listened to her about only looking it up when he or David were out of town.

Still its good he knew, he supposed. Knew why his great idea for a honeymoon wasn’t good at all. Imagine if he had surprised David with a place like that.

The picture was of David 10 or more years ago (he looked so young!) on a beach boardwalk lined with tiki torches at night surrounded by good looking, but older looking men laughing. David was wearing a leather jacket and a speedo and nothing else, the other men were in shorts and short sleeved shirts. The men where all looking at David with predatory stares and sick smiles. Young David was looking at nothing, the amount of drugs in his system obvious in his unfocused eyes and the laxness of his smile. David was tilted, falling, holding on to and being held up by some of the men. Other men were reaching out just to touch him.

Patrick’s beautiful husband looked like a piece of taffy about to be pulled apart. It was obvious that what little clothing he had on wasn’t going to last much longer. Depending on exactly how long ago it was, this could be a picture of a crime about to happen. And the love of Patrick’s life was going to be the victim; had been the victim.

Back in the very beginning, when this strange but strangely beautiful man had walked into Ray's living room and then left a series of flustered voice mails, Ray had made some comment about David's old life that had led Patrick to googling all of the Roses. He had been dismayed by how brutal the reports had been, how vicious the comments were about the family, like they had somehow deserved to be vilified simply for having been successful. When he looked up David specifically the gossip bloggers loved talking about all of his failed relationships, how David couldn't 'keep a man or woman' even with all of his daddy's money. But he had found the photos of David in those reports, regardless if they were obviously staged or blurry candid shots still showed David's haunting beauty under tons of sadness.

David looked sad in this photo, too, though he hadn't quite grown into his beauty yet. 

What was Patrick going to do tonight, let alone forever onward, now that he’s seen this? Tonight he had to go up stairs and crawl into bed next to his husband; peck him on the cheek; fall asleep all without David noticing his blotchy face and red eyes. He could hope that David had fallen asleep already, but it was unlikely. They often talked about how they both had trouble falling asleep alone anymore. It had been unusual for David to go up alone as it was and if Patrick took much longer David might come down to get him.

And for every day for the rest of their lives he had to keep this secret, Patrick could not change the way he looked at David, spoke to him, touched him. He couldn’t be any different the next time they made love.

He had to shut the laptop and get upstairs and into the shower before that happened. He could cry in the shower, he could only cry in the shower. It was a movie trope that he had never really understood before, but that was the one thing he could do for tonight at least.

Patrick had finally managed to pull his right hand from his mouth and was reaching for the laptop when it all exploded in a soft whisper. “It’s weird, isn’t it,” David said from the doorway behind Patrick, “how pictures of a party can look so very different than your impressions of it. Kind of obvious I have no real memories of that night, that week.”

Patrick whipped around, twisting away from the picture to stare at David, his right hand missing the computer lid. Fear dried Patrick eyes so he could see David was wearing a blank expression as he looked over him and at the screen.

“I thought Alexis had gotten all of the photos taken off of the web back when we had the money to pay people off.”

“She tried to,” Patrick managed to croak out, “something about someone who didn’t need the money.”

“So you talked to her. Did she tell you where to find them?” David asked.

Patrick nodded.

“Why?” 

“I, um,” Patrick’s voice cracked, “I had asked her about an idea I had for our, um, our honeymoon.”

“Well we can’t afford that place, though you are the numbers guy. It was beautiful, I think.”

Patrick shook his head violently, which was painful in his turned position.

“It wasn’t beautiful?” David asked finally looking at Patrick.

“It, I mean I,” Patrick hiccuped, his voice diminishing, “I don’t know that, I guess, if it was, is beautiful there.”

David’s face finally thawed a bit, “oh, sweetheart, why did you go looking for those…. For that?”

“I,” Patrick shrugged then faced forward finally closing the laptop, “I thought a gay resort, where we, I didn’t have to worry about what people were thinking about us. I’d only heard vague rumors that those kind of places existed, crazy stories. Well I guess maybe the stories were not exaggerated. I just thought it would be a place where we wouldn’t have to worry about upsetting some random evangelical Christian tourists, some place where we could expect almost everyone to congratulate us, not ruin our honeymoon.” 

“Well those guys might laugh at you for marrying their sloppy seconds, or sloppy fifths, hundredths.” David joked in an angry snarky voice that Patrick hadn’t heard for a long time. It was the same voice that had said “Open Mic” night was a stupid idea.

Patrick sobbed anew curling up on his self. David was building up his walls again. Patrick had ruined their marriage before it was even a month old. Years of chipping down those walls and exposing David’s heart were thrown away in a moment.

“…Hey!” David said loudly behind Patrick, sounding like he had come farther into the den. Patrick could not unroll himself.

David’s arm was draped over Patrick’s back and he was trying to pry Patrick’s hands from his face. “Shhhhhhh, sweetie, it’s okay. It’s not that bad. I have learned to live with all of that, my past. And you were going to find those pictures or ones like them at some point. Actually, I am glad you found them on your own, well with Alexis’ help, and they weren’t shoved in your face by some two-bit reporter looking for a story. Nice thing about Schitt’s Creek is that it has been far enough away from everything to keep the tabloid reporters at bay. But with mom being on TV again soon, someone who knows about all of that is going to hear about our marriage and come looking for the sap who bought some really used goods.”

“No!” Patrick sat up suddenly, pinning David’s arm between his back and the back of the chair. David rocked back on his heels where he was crouched down next to Patrick. Patrick’s hands were in fists on his lap revealing his tear streaked, snotty face, “Don’t talk about yourself that way, don’t talk about My husband that way!” David just hugged Patrick with his pinned arm and started to wipe Patrick’s face with a wad of tissues.

“Ok, shh, ok,” David said, “I’m just trying to be glad we get to do this at home, in our home, now, instead of being ambushed while coming out of LAX or somewhere with a bunch of paparazzi around us.” David wiped Patrick’s nose before putting the used tissue on top of the laptop. “I Was stupid, my parents were negligent; Alexis was busy fighting off perv-y photographers in god knows where. I was in college and had an obscene amount of money at my disposal, no real friends and I was a cute, little twink.”

“Stop! You were a fucking victim, not stupid!'

"I was willing, what ever did happen was probably my own idea. I liked sex and people liked me because I liked sex."

"You are obviously wasted, that's not consent."

"We didn't use the word 'Consent' the same way back then. I was on that island dressed like that, that was considered sufficient consent."

"And how old were you? 17?" Patrick asked, "You were a victim of sexual assault! That's a crime. That was a documented Sexual assault of a minor!” 

“It wasn’t illegal, it was a private island, no laws.”

“Bullshit, there is no such thing. All islands still fall under one country or another, even if they are privately owned and in the middle of the pacific. There is no way that place isn’t under one set of laws or another. That doesn’t mean they are enforced, but there are laws. And just about everywhere one part of all that or another would be illegal!”

David was taken a little aback by this information. “Alexis had said…”

“Your sister is very smart, and very good at many things but at that time she must have been all of 15 at the most.” Another tear worked it self out of Patrick’s eye, “I wish I could have protected you, no one should have ever touched you like that. If I could only go back in time and slap your parents around and wake them up. Or rounded up you and Alexis and wrapped you up in bubble wrap and shipped you off to here back then.”

“Then you would be in jail for kidnapping, and my father would have remembered he bought this town and gotten rid of it in some way or bulldozed it to build the worlds largest Rose Video and Museum. And we wouldn’t have had anywhere to go when we lost everything. I would have been sleeping in someone elses’ apartment in New York in exchange for sex, probably, considering that none of them turned out to be real friends. You’re younger than Alexis, though. Back then you wouldn’t have been able to get to my parents or reach high enough to slap my dad.”

Patrick lost all of his starch and collapsed onto David who caught him. “I had never wanted to kill anyone, actually kill anyone dead until I saw that picture. You are so wonderful, so precious, so funny and creative and sassy and wise and their hands should have shriveled up just for touching you wrong, their dicks should have shriveled up and fallen off painfully. Who ever gave you those drugs or sold you those drugs –“

“Shh, its gone, its in the past. I have you now, and Stevie, and I have Alexis again, and my parents even more than before, and this town and our store and our perfect little cottage and so much goddamn happiness I think I am going to burst from it every single day.” David started peppering little kisses where he could reach on the back of Patricks neck and stroking his back with his finger nails. “Now come to bed, come to our bed. Come hold me and let me hold you. And tomorrow I will tell you what places you can choose from for our Honeymoon.”

“I was afraid I had broken you again, by you finding me looking at that,” Patrick said as they helped each other to stand. Patrick just opened up the laptop far enough to power it down for the night. David switched off the desk lamp.

“You fixed me, Patrick Brewer.” David said leaning into the hallway to check that the latch had been thrown. “Granted seeing that photo again after all of these years, and seeing my wonderfully kind and gentle husband looking at it, was a shock. But I could tell how hard you were crying. And I was thinking that back then I had no one to step in and save me from myself, but I do now. Back then I thought I had all of these friends, and I didn’t have any, really. Now in a small town in the middle of nowhere I have a whole community that would fight for me. Hell even you and Ronnie would work together to protect me if those guys or people like those guys showed up here trying to get me wasted again.” 

Patrick chuckled a little, which felt good in a strange way. “We’ll we would try to work together, at least.” They shut off the rest of the lights and started up the stairs.

“And while you and Ronnie distracted everyone with your Laurel and Hardy routine, Stevie would sneak up behind them and slit their throats.” David continued.

“As long as they end up dead, I’m good,” Patrick said, “though I would like to take one or two of them out myself, you know just for karma or whatever.”

“That’s not how karma works but thank you.” David said walking through their master bedroom into the master bath and starting the shower. “I wouldn’t mind being able to disembowel one or two of them, while they are still alive, of course.”

“Just let Stevie, Ronnie, and I know which ones to save for you and that could be arranged.” David started undressing Patrick carefully. Patrick continued, “It is hard for this nice Canadian boy to realize there are people I want to murder. I don’t want to call the Mounties, I don’t want them to be taken to court and dragged through the mud and the press. I want to cut off their dicks and feed it to them and then watch them choke on them while they bleed out and die. All of the horrible awful threats ever yelled at any hockey game I've been in or to brought to life.”

“Yes, that whole pacifist, Canadian persona really starts to crack when you watch one of our hockey games.” The water in the shower was finally warm so David disrobed and tugged his husband into the shower. David took out the body wash and started to soap up Patricks shoulders and chest.

Patrick said, “the water isn’t hot enough.”

David replied “Yes it is, I know you feel like you need to scrub you skin raw and then boil it off of you, but that doesn’t actually help. Turns out it just hurts your skin. Now I really like this skin, so that’s why I am doing to the washing.” Instead of turning Patrick to get his back, David just pulled him flush and reached around to soap up his back and sides.

Patrick asked, “Do I get to ask about the tattoo?” 

“it was Prince’s symbol back when he was the artist formally known as Prince, his little Pansexual amulet. He was such a delicious little gnome of everyone loving sex.”

“Why did you get it removed?” Patrick asked as he touched the scar on David’s chest where it obviously had been as David washed Patrick’s left arm, lifting his left hand to kiss his soapy wedding ring. It was still new enough that it was loose, so David shoved it on harder then rinsed it off just to be safe.

“The idiot put it on backwards, or flipped, blamed it on my photo. Plus it was a way to always identify my self in the pictures that kept showing up on the internet, even in a pile of bodies or dark, grainy bath house photos.” David started on Patrick’s right arm.

“How are you so calm about all of this,” Patrick asked.

David smirked as he sunk to his knees in front of his husband and tapped his left foot so Patrick would lift it, “A hell of a lot of therapy, good therapy, though a lot of it didn’t really work until I meet you.”

“You always say your therapy didn’t work.”

David soaped up Patrick’s calf and thigh and then reached down to tap Patrick’s right foot. “Oh the poor, little, lonely, rich boy therapy was crap, just another group of people grabbing for our money. But the Sexual assault survivor’s group therapy was free in a dingy room in the basement of a community center down in the village, and that stuff rocked. My stories weren’t the worst, I wasn’t the youngest, or the most famous, or even the richest person in our little group. Some of those people were ones I thought might actually make it here for the wedding. But since I never really kept track of anyone after I stopped going to group, unless it was to send a mailer for one of my galleries, I can’t really blame them. We did get a couple of nice cards from some who couldn’t afford to come.” David gave Patricks dick a little kiss, where it was hanging mostly uninterested in the going on, as he pulled Patrick forward to soap up his ass.

“I can’t right now,” Patrick could barely be heard over the sound of the water.

“I understand, actually one of the things that came up in group that I didn’t understand then; how someone who really loves you can become less aroused around you sometimes after they learn something new about your assault, not because they think you are dirty or damaged but because they have to process their immense feelings of anger and hurt on your behalf and decent people don’t find those things arousing.” David finished washing the front of Patrick and gave his now soapy but still limp penis another kiss. “So, good little Pat.” The real reason David cringed when some people tried to use the diminutive to address all of his husband.

David stood up and turned on the side sprayers to quickly rinse the two of them off. Patrick said, “I feel like I should be taking care of you, though,” as he let David sluice the water over him to make sure that all the soap came off.

“And you take care of me plenty, wether its keeping me from attacking an idiot customer or holding me when I insist on watching Steel Magnolias again. Or just keeping my spirts up when I’ve eaten too many Jalapeno pancakes and they play havoc with my bowels. Close your eyes.” David carefully washed the tear tracks and snot traces from Patrick’s face, “I’m not going to wash the inside of your ears, that is just too intimate. Mind you I have been up your ass and I love when you are up mine, but washing in your ears, that is too much.”

Patrick chuckled again, “but sweetums, who’s going to trim my ear hair when we get old?”

“Stevie will have to do it, or we can get Ronnie. I would say Alexis but we all know she would lose her focus and only get one ear done before wandering away.”

A penny dropped for Patrick, “She texted you, didn’t she. That’s why you came down, that’s why you weren’t surprised. She is a wonderful sister.”

David turned off the water and opened the door to their shower. “Step out. Though I question her prowess at being a sister-in-law today.” 

“She kept me from spending all our honeymoon money on a place that could have triggered you and then me. And all these years later she is still fighting to get those photos down.”

“I know I’ve told you before, but once Adelina was gone we had to take care of each other.” David took one of their monogramed towels and started drying Patrick off. “Do you know what mom admitted to me at the winery tasting? She had fired Adelina out of jealousy. Alexis or I had run past mom to share some school achievement with Adelina, Adelina gave us a big hug, and sang our praises then sent us up to get ready for dinner. And mom fired her, right there. Adelina refused to leave at first, and mom forgot about it for awhile. But then she saw us all playing out in the yard or something, I’m not sure because I was a teen and Alexis a tween by this time, so it is not like we would have been in our sandbox. And mom fired her again, this time in front of dad. Adelina pleaded with my dad to stay but he caved to mom, of course, as always. She then went on to tell me how to manipulate you into getting what I want, which was basically all about sex; offering sex, withholding sex, threatening to withhold sex while wearing a, quote “decadent ensemble”."

Patrick chuckled remembering the scene he and Johnny had walked into at the awful fruit wine winery. “This does explain the conversation we had on the ride back in my car, while your folks took the Lincoln.”

“Oh god, what did I say? Do I want to know?” 

“You asked me to define what decant, not decadent, was for me. and I asked like what you do to wine at which point you threw up mostly out the window. It was a valiant effort on your part but the seat belt did get in your way.”

“Eww, as my sister would say. And you still married me?” David had moved on to drying himself and was towel drying his hair. 

Patrick moved forward and reached up to help with the hair drying, “And I still married you, and would marry you again tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that and on and on and on, again and again and again.”

“You just like to sing in front of people,” but it was easy to tell that David was pleased.

“Every day I could sing a different love song for my vows.”

“You just like making me ugly cry with your singing ,” all Patrick could see was David’s mouth under the towel, but that mouth held the shy genuine David Rose smile most of the world had never seen.

“I like singing to you.” Patrick kissed that mouth. “I love you David Rose, all of you. You’ve been through hell and back, in a more real way than I even knew. And some how you came out of it all, so sweet and kind and well adjusted, you came out – smelling like a Rose.”

“That’s Brewer-Rose to you.”


	2. Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phone call Patrick figured out had to have happened. Take place just before chapter 1.
> 
> Nothing graphic in this chapter.
> 
> Sorry these are un-beta'd, learned yesterday that my usual beta hasn't seen Schitt's Creek yet (I Know, right!)
> 
> Also, I don't know how people are getting those cute balloons when showing text messages. 🤷

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Italics_ = Texts from Alexis (Lil sis)  
>  **Bold** = David's texts

The first text he got from Alexis was in the car on the way home, > _Lil sis: SOS U_ <

If Patrick noticed David’s little start at reading that text, he didn’t say anything, just waited for a tractor to go by so he could make the turn out towards their cottage.

David texted back > **WTF?** <

SOS was their code text that one of them was really in trouble. It meant that this was a text that the other sibling couldn’t ignore. From Alexis it was usually something like > _Lil sis:_ _SOS, Broke up w/______, left me Pyongyang. DYK N. Kor. still technically @ war w/America? wil b hard 2 get out?!? Need brw contacts and drab clothes- REALLY drab (not just mom drab)! + couple tons (that’s a lot, right) spam or some canned food. DK if go 2 S. Kor. or Jap. maybe tourist in Chn. Wil need visa + copy passport – wil try ttyl but cell service sucks_.< But ‘SOS U’ sounded like she was saying David was the one with the emergency, unless she had been beamed up in the middle of typing UFO.

Just to be safe, David texted > **UFO?** <

_Lil sis: WTF? No YOU or ur marriage in trouble or wil b!_

**What r u on? Wil u share?**

_Lil sis: SERIOUS - 1 U must call me right after dinner!!!!!!!! 2 DO NOT TELL PAT!!!!!!!!!!!_

**Y? How?**

_Lil sis: Uggggggh just go 2 bed early then call me_

**When we go 2 bed early we go 2gether**

_Lil sis: Yuck If Pat let u go up alone u must CALL ME!_

**Fine + don’t call him Pat** They were pulling into their driveway, any ways.

_Lil sis: I not call him LITTLE Pat_

To David’s surprise, after a rather quiet dinner, when he stood up and said he was going up to read in bed Patrick didn’t say anything but “Ok” while starting to do the dishes. He had expected Patrick to say something like, ‘help me with these dishes and we can both go to bed early,’ or, ‘if you get the trash and lock up, I could join you faster.’ They had only been married a few weeks after all, and hadn’t even decided where to go for their honeymoon. Sure, they had been practically living together for over a year, David spent as many nights as possible at Patrick’s apartment for all of Patrick’s insistence that it was his ‘bachelor flat’. It seemed way too early in their marriage for their sex life to begin flagging.

Okay, he did have an emergency. He grabbed his phone and headed up the stairs.

Once in their bedroom David hit the speed dial for Alexis and sat on their bed. Alexis answered the phone with, “Where is Patrick?”

“He is down doing the dishes.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Well, since we moved into the house, yes. Usually he asks me to put on some music and then help him to dry the dishes or to make the leftovers into lunch for us for tomorrow or something.”

“So every night until tonight he has asked you to put on some music and help him?”

“Yes, well no. Most nights I just put on music and grab the dishrag and then try to dance with him while he is washing the dishes, you know, without him having to ask me.”

“God, you are so domesticated already.”

“Says the girl who almost moved to the Galapagos. What is the emergency, is Patrick regretting,” David’s voice was getting pitchy, “getting married to me? I really should be down there helping with the dishes…”

“No, Patrick didn’t say anything about that, but we did talk while you were in the Café. Do me a favor, go to the top of the stairs and see if you can still hear the water running.”

“Why wouldn’t it be running, he just started like a minute ago.”

“Just put down the phone and quietly go check.” Alexis said.

Wondering what the hell he was doing, David did as instructed, setting the phone down on the bed and opening the door to their bedroom. In their little cottage the stairs basically led straight into the Master suite, with only a skinny little hallway to the right going to what was the children’s bedroom now in the process of becoming their office.

At the top of the stairs David could not hear any water running. He should be able to hear it from here, right? He decided to go down a couple of steps, craning his head down to listen harder. Then instead of hearing water David saw Patrick taking out his laptop and opening it on the card table that was where their dinning room table would go eventually. David turned around and tiptoed back upstairs and then firmly, but quietly closed the bedroom door and even turned the lock. He then dived for his phone.

“He’s not washing dishes, he is getting on his laptop in the den,” David said in a hushed rush to Alexis.

“Is that unusual? Could he be just doing some work for the store or some of his clients from Ray?”

“No, Its not unusual for my workaholic husband to work from home, but why would he lie about doing the dishes? Plus he has already started to set up our office next to the bedroom, all of his reference materials and files are in there already and his little charts and stuff are hung up. And he didn’t ask me to turn on music or take out the trash or anything. What is he doing and how did you know he was going to do it.”

“Ok, I am going to tell you something that is going to make you upset and probably mad at me and maybe mad at Patrick but you have to not react right away. You have to let me finish explaining.”

“Alexis…,” David’s volume was rising.

“Shhhhhh! David Samuel Rosenthal! L.i.s.t.e.n t.o m.e! Do NOT Panic. Everything will be ok but ONLY if you do not panic and let me finish everything that I need to say. OK? Tonight is going to have to be one of those nights where you keep it together because Patrick is going to need you in 15 minutes or so.”

David started to hyperventilate, his left hand flinging all over the place, “Why? Why? Why are you doing this? Why will Patrick need me to keep it together? I can’t -”

“Stop! You can! All of the times you got me what I needed in a clutch, I know you can keep it together when you try. I need you to try, Patrick needs you to try. Stop whining, stop flailing, take a deep breath, count to 5, breath out, un-scrunch your face, put on your big boy pants, then sit down on the bed, and tell me when you are ready.”

It took David three deep breaths, but he calmed down. All the little ideas for the store, for what he wanted to do next with Patrick in bed, for comebacks to whatever stupid thing Roland says next he put off to the side, locked them in a box like Patrick would say when he hadn’t told David about Rachel or his parents yet. “OK.”

“Ok, good. You can get mad at me tomorrow, disown me or whatever, but do not focus on that now. Patrick asked me about some ideas he had for your honeymoon. He was thinking about going to one of those island gay resorts were there aren’t any laws.” David sucked in his breath in shock but otherwise didn’t say anything. “I tried to just get him to think of something else but he was really stuck on the idea, that he could find one you guys could afford and have a nice relaxing honeymoon, walking around in, I quote, ‘Speedos or nothing’ the whole time.”

David had an inkling where this was going. “What did you say?”

“Well considering the conversation we had right before the wedding, I told him how to find some of the photos. The photos I wouldn’t let you look at.”

“Shit,” David said quietly. “So my sweet, naive husband is looking at what, some of the nudes that Sebastien took or?”

“No. I got all the nudes taken down, like within a week. And I also got all of the bath house photos down, I think. But there are still a lot of them from that island that you went to on the yacht after senior year, when we had that pervy captain. Most of those assholes never needed any of our money and you can’t see enough of anyone else’s face to identify them in the photos. You are the only one with a tattoo. Since you don’t remember who was there….”

“Fuck, I didn’t need him to know that I started out as a slut at such a young age.”

“You weren’t a slut, yet. You ended up as one for a while, but if there were laws on islands you were gang-“

“Don’t say it, don’t say the R word.” This was an old argument and given everything else he was going to need to do tonight, he really didn’t want to get into this one right now.

“Fine, but I think before you go down there, you need to take a minute to remember all of your stuff from that good group you found after Se-butthead.” Alexis said.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good, good idea, only it was years ago. I don’t remember it all.” David said, wondering if there was a way to get that literature again. His copies had all been left behind when they had to come to Schitt’s Creek.

“Sure you do, they talk about how significant others, like spouses, might react to learning new details about your attack,” Alexis supplied helpfully.

“I never told you that.”

“So they didn’t say that?” Alexis asked in her ultra-innocent voice.

“No, yes they did say that. But I never told you about that because I never thought it would apply to me,” David said, getting a new sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Hunh, well most of those groups say basically the same thing, anyhow.”

“How do you-“ David started.

“Tomorrow, David, tonight you have to go take care of sweet Patrick,” Alexis reminded him. “He’s probably found them by now, the photos. Remember, he loves you more then anything in this universe or the next. And he had already heard some of the stories, if not that one specifically. And eventually someone was going to show him those photos, either photogs shoving them in your faces at an airport somewhere or sending them to him by email or by shoving an envelope under the door at the store.”

That was the discussion the two of them had had a day or two before the wedding. Since those photos existed on the web, and not just on the dark web, but the regular everyday web, there was no way that Patrick would never see them. Even if Alexis got them taken down tomorrow, some paparazzi had probably already printed them out when ‘The Crows have Eyes III’ hit cult movie status. In one of her interviews for the new show, their mom was bound to eventually mention the wedding or her son-in-law and then the race would be on for which tabloid scum bucket could get the first quote from Patrick. Alexis had suggested David show Patrick the photos immediately, but David didn’t want to subject him to that, but he had also admitted that Alexis was right.

“Go to him, before he gets too deep into the pictures or decides to pretend like he has been washing the dishes this whole time or something. And if you have the chance later let me know that you guys are alright.”

“Um, yeah, ok.” David said standing up again.

“I love you guys, and you will be ok, ok?”

“Yeah,” David concentrated on relaxing his face, “Oh, and Alexis, we will talk tomorrow, but, thank you.”

“I got you, big bro – boop!”


End file.
